


when it sinks in

by mercuryhatter



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Banter, Bottom Tim, Crying, Explicit Consent, Fisting, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Trans Characters, stone jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: frens is when you platonically fist
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 141





	when it sinks in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witching](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witching/gifts).



> happy late birth martin I love you I'm delighted that you're my friend and I hope you enjoy this guys being bros

“Tip your head back for me, love,” Jon said quietly, giving a soft sigh when Tim does. “Gorgeous, thank you.” The movement exposed the line of Tim’s throat, throwing his expression into beautiful relief against the uneven light of the bedroom lamp. Tim was propped up against the bed’s generous pile of pillows, one hand twisted in the sheets, the other between his legs, working with increasing freneticism at his cock. Jon could see his wetness from where he sat at the foot of the bed, just watching, one hand lightly resting on Tim’s ankle. 

He hadn’t decided when they started whether or not he was going to touch Tim any more than that, but watching the way Tim’s lashes fluttered against his cheekbones made the decision for him. Jon found himself wondering what that same motion would look like if Tim’s lashes were wet, wondered if the trace of eyeliner he was wearing would smear, and determined in that moment that he would find out. 

“Stop for me, please,” he said then, and Tim gasped with loss as he stilled his hand with a clear effort. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at Jon with equal parts reproach and desperation, making Jon chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’s just for a minute.” Jon shifted forward to settle himself comfortably between Tim’s legs and replaced Tim’s hand with his own, moving more slowly than Tim had been but with enough pressure to make him moan. Slowly, Jon brought the tempo down until his hand was simply pressing gently on Tim’s center. 

“What are we doing?” Tim asked breathlessly, pushing his hips up into Jon’s hand. Jon huffed a laugh and pressed them back down. 

“I want to try something, and it’s all right for you to say no,” he said. 

“Does it involve you touching me? Because I told you before we started, I am  _ very _ into that.” Tim wiggled his eyebrows, making Jon blush a little.

“Stop that, I’m being serious,” he said, laughing despite himself with Tim stuck his tongue out. “Stop! Listen.” Jon held up his hand, folding the fingers inward around the thumb, looking from his hand to Tim’s hole to Tim’s face as he clearly tried to figure out how to ask Tim if he could fist him without saying those words. Luckily, Tim caught his meaning almost instantly. 

“Oh,” he said, wide-eyed as he appraised Jon’s hand. Shimmying up the pillows, he took Jon’s wrist, circling his fingers around it. It was thin, like the rest of him, but still bigger than anything else Tim had ever taken. But… not impossible. 

Tim dropped Jon’s hand and flipped over to dig in his bedside table, emerging triumphant with a bottle of lube and a box of gloves. 

“Let’s do it,” he said brightly, and he looked so excited that Jon had to laugh again, dropping his head into his hands while his shoulders shook with it. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re perfect. Let’s do it,” Jon said, the last three words a passable imitation of Tim’s voice. Tim’s swipe at him with the nearest pillow fell uselessly over the side of the bed as Jon caught his cock between two fingers without preamble. 

Jon gave him a few strokes before pausing to wrestle a glove on, fumbling with the bottle of lube in his other hand. Tim leaned forward to snap the end of the glove, making Jon nearly drop the bottle. 

“Well, someone had to,” Tim explained, prompting an eyeroll of truly cosmic proportions from Jon before he stuck two lubed fingers in Tim, hoping that would be distraction enough to let Jon focus. 

The play was a success-- Tim immediately fell back with a moan, drawing his legs further apart as Jon began to work in and out, curving and scissoring his fingers to find every sensitive place inside Tim while opening him up. Three was easy, but four took long minutes, adding more lube periodically. Eventually, Jon shifted position so that he could shower Tim’s hips and thighs and belly with kisses as he worked, stroking soothingly with his free hand. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Tim said finally, his own hand moving slowly on his cock, in time with Jon but in no rush. “Come on, Jon, please, give me the rest, let’s--  _ oh-- _ yes, just like--” 

Tim dropped off into incoherence as Jon worked his fingers in far enough to reach the thumb, then to the outward curve of his knuckles, the widest part of his hand. 

“All the way?” Jon asked, sounding shaky himself. “We can stop here if you want--”

“ _ All _ of it,” Tim demanded, grabbing onto Jon’s forearm uselessly. “Want all of it, don’t stop until I’m around your wrist-- oh,  _ shit-- _ ” 

Jon had been watching the progress of his hand for most of the time, paying attention to the stretch of Tim’s hole around it, but now he remembered to watch Tim’s face. He was shining with sweat, stray strands of hair stuck to his face, color high and dark in his cheeks. Jon moved his hand in tiny, in-and-out motions, tracking the shifts in ecstasy mapped out on Tim’s face. Faster than he thought possible, he was fully seated inside Tim, feeling him hot and tight around the full length of his hand. The clench of muscle on his wrist was alien and exhilarating, and Jon rested his forehead on Tim’s hip momentarily to absorb the rush of it. 

“Do you want me to move?” he asked, looking up again to catch Tim’s frantic nodding. 

“S- slowly,” Tim stammered, pushing the words out between frantic breaths. “And-- and talk to me? Please?” 

“Of course,” Jon breathed. “You’re doing so well, Tim, you’re so beautiful. This is just what I pictured, just how I wanted you, beautiful boy.” As he spoke, he tested the movements of his hand, seeing which tiny motions got the most response for Tim, watching his expressions carefully for signs that pain was overtaking pleasure. Tim’s hand had fallen away from his cock, too overwhelmed with sensation inside to stand anything else. Jon pressed his wrist upward just slightly, enough to hit every sensitive nerve, and sighed in satisfaction when Tim keened. His eyes were tightly closed, but as Jon watched the first tear worked its way loose, tracing a shining line down his face. 

“Beautiful,” Jon said again, and Tim sobbed quietly, whether from the stimulation or the praise in combination with it, it was hard to tell. “Are you ready for me to pull out?” 

“No,” Tim said, voice thick and choked, “but yes. Do it.” 

“You’ve come this far,” Jon murmured, beginning the process of pulling his hand out, other hand kneading gently into Tim’s thigh as he clenched reflexively at the movement. “You’re going to do this well too, I know you are. I’ve got you, love. It’s all right. Relax for me, I’ve got you.” Jon winced in sympathy as Tim spasmed around the widest part of his hand as he pulled it out, but the rest came easily after that. 

Jon kept two fingers inside him as he changed position to gently put his mouth on Tim’s cock, coaxing a slow, exhausted orgasm from him. Tim’s hands were firm in his hair, even though they shook against him. 

“God, Jon,” Tim breathed, petting Jon’s hair messily. “Jesus. Okay, get off, come up here.” The pair messily rearranged themselves for a moment until Jon surrounded Tim, arms securely around his torso and chin pillowed on his shoulder. 

“Good?” Jon asked, always adorably apprehensive in the afterglow. 

“Incredible, as always,” Tim said fervently, wiggling back into Jon’s embrace. “I really wasn’t prepared for the caliber of the benefits involved in this whole friends with benefits thing, I have to say.” Tim could almost hear Jon’s blush as Jon buried his head in Tim’s neck. 

“Yes, well,” he mumbled. “I enjoy our friendship very much too.” 

“ _ Enjoy our friendship _ ,” Tim parroted gleefully, yelping when Jon pinched him in remonstration. “Yeah, that’s how I would put it. Thank you, my very good friend, for the delightful job you have just done platonically fisting me within an inch of my life--” 

“Must you always do this,” Jon groaned. “After all I do for you! Ungrateful, frankly.” 

“That’s me,” Tim said cheerfully. “Ungrateful. A terrible friend. You don’t deserve to put up with me.” 

“Hm,” Jon said, pulling the blanket decisively over them both and swatting at the switch on the lamp until they were left in darkness. “Something like that.” 


End file.
